


Talk

by Fandom_and_heartbreak



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Bad Plot, Bad Writing, F/M, i am lonely okay?!, im so bad at this, leave me with my feels, this is so sad
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-14
Updated: 2017-02-14
Packaged: 2018-09-24 05:35:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,346
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9705569
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fandom_and_heartbreak/pseuds/Fandom_and_heartbreak
Summary: Dean and y/n haven't talked since John died. Now that she's living at the bunker with the boys, what will he do?





	

Winchesters. It was always the Winchesters. Your home, your safety, your love, your Winchesters. John had been like a surrogate father to you, as he found you a month after Mary's death. Sam had been like a little brother to you, as you were the same age as Dean. But Dean? Dean was something else. Daddy's little soldier, yet a rebel without a cause all the same. Dean was the type of man to walk into a bar and have every woman within fawning over him like a lost puppy. And it killed you every time. John was the first to notice the way you felt about Dean; he saw the way you watched the young Winchester when he was trying out his moves on other women; he told you to keep your hopes up and to just try to be happy.

Then John died.

When John died, you had taken off on your own to escape the world. You kept in touch with Sam through e-mail, then through text and phone calls. You didn't talk to Dean, despite the fact that Sam always tried to get him to talk to you, he never did. Despite Sam's efforts, you did try to talk to Dean – but he never answered, which made you give up after three months of trying.

* * *

 

“Why won't you talk to y/n?” Sam asked, his eyes were too much like John's for Dean not to almost cry at the sight – he needed his father now, more than ever. Both of them did.  
“You know why, Sammy” Dean mumbled, turning his back to his younger brother and throwing his phone on the bed beside him as another text from y/n came through.  
“No, Dean, I don't” Sam hissed through gritted teeth, he knew that the y/n and Dean had feelings for each other, and he knew how much it pained both of them to be apart.  
“I don't wanna hurt her, Sammy, I don't wanna treat her like shit and put her through more than she already has. Sam, I-”  
“Call her” Sam demanded, picking up Dean's phone and throwing it at his brother's chest before walking into the bathroom with a heavy sigh. Dean looked disheartened at the phone in his hands before opening up y/n's contact information and pressing the dial tone.  
“Hey, y/n, how are ya sweetheart?” Dean asked down the line, he heard a small sigh and couldn't help but chuckle as he heard y/n shuffling around her room.  
“I'm good, Dean” she replied, he could hear the faintest sound of music from through the phone, he knew the song well – 'Of Wolf and Man' by Metallica.  
“Good” he smiled as he heard her put the phone down on what he presumed to be the bedside table before he heard humming and shuffling before a creaking bed and the phone being picked up again.  
“I gotta go” y/n said sheepishly, like there was a hesitation in her voice, before she hung up. Dean hung his head and threw the phone back on the bedside table.

After that, they didn't talk for another three months - despite y/n trying to contact him again. 

* * *

“Sam?” you breathed down the phone, a panic and quietened pain in your voice that made a shiver go down both brothers' spines as they listened to the phone. By now, they were living at the bunker, and it had been years since you had talked – due to them being so busy all the time with saving the world, and you being preoccupied with living a normal life as a pastry chef in a small town.   
“Y/n?!” Dean's voice broke through, and he felt tears already brimming in his eyes as he feared the worst – he wouldn't be able to bear it if you had been hurt... or worse.   
“Dean? Sam? Guys, I'm on my way to the bunker, I... I need your help” you knew where the bunker was, as Sam had texted you its location the second they got there – that was the last text you received from either of them.   
“Okay, sweetheart, is everything alright?” Dean asked, the concern and guilt shining through his voice like a shadow in a bright white room, you sighed and slowly calmed yourself before affirming you were fine. 

* * *

When you got to the bunker, you ran through the doors and immediately fell into Sam's arms as you passed out.  
“Fuck!” Dean growled, frantically grabbing the supplies he and Sam needed to fix up the gaping wound in your side, he should've been by your side, he should've taken the bullet for you, he should've-  
“Dean!” Sam barked, taking the supplies from his elder brother with shaking hands before doing his best to fix the wound with what limited medical training and supplies he and Dean had between them.

* * *

“W-Winchesters?” you called out, you felt a throbbing pain in your left rib telling you to stay laid in the bed, but your hunting instincts told you to make sure you were safe; you strode around each room in the bunker until you stumbled upon Sam and Dean in the kitchen, drinking coffee like a normal pair of brothers, bickering about what the plural of 'moose' was.  
“Y/n” Dean sighed like he had been holding his breath for hours on end, you smiled and nodded before turning to Sam and smiling gratefully at him.  
“You want some coffee?” Sam asked, you took a seat at the oak kitchen table and asked him if he still remembered how you liked your coffee – of course he did, he still even remembered your favourite song.  
“Thanks” you gave him a soft kiss on the forehead when he bent down to give you your coffee, as you'd have no chance in Hell of giving him a kiss on the forehead if you were also stood up.  
“I'll leave you two alone” Sam glared at Dean to talk to you before leaving.

“Hey, sweetheart” Dean smiled, sitting down on the chair across from you, his gleaming emerald eyes watching you like an overprotective hawk as you simply sat there, drinking your coffee in the red plaid shirt he had lent to you (given that your shirt was completely wrecked from blood).  
“Dean” you smiled and took another sip of your coffee, you set the cup down and simply looked into his gorgeous absinthe eyes – they were completely mesmerising as ever.  
“Emo” he joked, you were shocked that he still remembered that you liked Fall Out Boy and Panic! At The Disco.  
“Rebel without a cause” you spoke quietly as Dean chuckled, he leaned over and took your shaking hands in his, his face was so close to yours that you could almost count every single freckle that was speckled across his skin like the stars.  
“I'm sorry I've been such an ass. I didn't wanna ignore you, I just-”  
“I get it, Dean” you smiled softly, the tears had begun to prick at your eyes, but you simply held them back like you had time and time again.  
“No, y/n, you don't. I-I... I care a lot about you, and I was just afraid I'd hurt you, but I, I just hurt you more by ignoring you, didn't I?” he asked, his pleading mossy eyes filling with tears, you held back your own before admitting the one thing you promised yourself you never would.  
“I love you, Dean, and that matters to me than years of no communication” you spoke softly, Dean chuckled sadly before licking his lips and drinking in your words.  
“Y/n, I love you, too” he whispered, hesitant to say the words as if speaking them would unleash a thousand arrows into your back and thus killing you, and destroying his heart. You smiled and cautiously pressed your lips to his for a moment before pulling away and smiling.  
“Stay here, with me and Sammy, please?” he almost begged, you nodded slowly and pressed another kiss to his lips as a yes.

 

 


End file.
